March 20, 2022 (Lent Week 3)

Christ in the Desert – Ivan Kramskoi (1872)

John 5:25-29

Growing up in Reformed churches, I rarely heard the words Lent, Advent, or the liturgical year due to John Calvin’s 16th Century rejection of what he determined to be superstitious observances. Calvin described Lent as a superstitious observance where fasting was used by some to gain standing through some “excellent service to God” and by others as a “holy imitation of Christ” (Calvin, Institutes 4.12.20). This false piety was useless particularly due to Calvin’s claim that the only instance of Jesus fasting was during the forty days in the wilderness and then only because he was “preparing for the promulgation of the gospel” and as he didn’t fast continually according to scripture, this was hardly an example for such widespread imitation (Calvin, Institutes 4.12.20). Even the one day of the year that the Christian Reformed Church did set aside as a Day of Prayer and Fasting, well, my family usually remembered only after breakfast. “Well, maybe next year then” became more of a tradition than, well, Lent.   

When I went to university in 1991, I admit I was a rather brash, headstrong, young, Calvinist and the following spring, when my best friend began fasting as part of his Greek Orthodox tradition, it was a foreign concept to me; both fasting and Lent. Now in fairness, he really liked to put it on a little thick in terms of how weak he claimed he felt, and when he described what he still could eat, I kind of felt he was eating better than I. And so, each year we had a bit of a battle of him telling me I should fast and me quoting Matthew 6:16-18 in return.

Today, having been blessed with thirty years of countless varied life experiences, I am no longer the brash, (quite as) headstrong, young Calvinist I was then. (I am no longer young nor Calvinist.) One learns throughout life that the world rarely works as nice and orderly as one thinks when young, and systematic theology, though valuable, has a tendency to view most things as black or white, even though where black and white meet there tends to be a small but deep line of grey. And it wasn’t until Jenn and I began attending St. Augustine’s nearly fourteen years ago that I began to understand and value the forty days of Lent. Today I look forward to this time of solemn reflection and preparation before our celebration of the fulfilment of Christ’s ministry when we celebrate Easter Sunday morning. As I’m sure is the case with any fasting, the last few days must be the most difficult and this aligns well, I think, with the short period between Good Friday and Easter morning. And though it took me until this year to finally pick something to give up and stick to it (not food but Social Media), today I love the liturgical year and its weekly reminders of the many events in the Bible and Christian history that link us back to those who experienced them.

Jesus tells us in John 5 that “(25) an hour is coming and is now here … (28) when all who are in the tombs will hear his voice (29) and come out, those who have done good to the resurrection of life, and those who have done evil to the resurrection of judgment.” Often, in a world where there is unspeakable human suffering, food insecurity, injustice, war, a pandemic, and any host of other tribulations, we look to heaven and wonder how long this hour Jesus speaks of can possibly take. We feel akin to David who opens Psalm 13 with the words “How long, O LORD? Will you forget me forever? How long will you hide your face from me?” At times it may feel like the forty days of fasting in the wilderness (the extended version) with no end in sight.

But like Jesus’ fast and like the short time of Lent where we fast in our own ways, this too shall end. Just as Jesus’ fast ended with the triumphant establishment of his authority over Satan, sin, and history through his resistance of temptation, and just as the disciple’s grief ended at sunrise with an empty tomb, our waiting too will come to an end. And it will end with the ultimate triumph and culmination of world history when Jesus will end all pain, suffering, death, and waiting. Yes, there will come a time when the liturgical year, Lent, and any form of fasting will end for good because the wedding guests cannot mourn when the bridegroom is with them (Matthew 9:14). And unlike our feasts and commemorations, that day will never end.

If you find yourself tired, dejected, grieved by the war in Ukraine and other human suffering throughout the world, take heart Sisters and Brothers. Easter is coming! And one day, it will not be a single day, but joy and peace forever in the presence of God the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. 

- Keith Griffioen


Music: Kyrie Eleison (Monody of the XV Century)

Kyiv Chamber Choir, Mykola Hobdytch (Dir.)


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